


Scout's Honour

by thesoftestangel



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: A bit of a whump, Adam is a little shit, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternative Universe - Scout Leaders, Anxious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale is a lovesick fool, Crowley has a great ass though, Crowley is Good With Kids (Good Omens), Flashbacks, Gabriel is an asshole, M/M, No beta I fall like Crowley, Not Beta Read, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Crowley, The Them are members of the Scout Troop, aziraphale must be protected at all costs, only a couple of whumps i promise, scout leader, scoutleader!aziraphale, scoutleader!crowley, these two are idiots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-10 15:27:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20854016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesoftestangel/pseuds/thesoftestangel
Summary: Aziraphale has recently moved back from Bath to Soho, after studying his masters in English Literature and is keen to carry on Scouting in London.Meanwhile, Anthony J. Crowley has been struggling to run 13th Soho Scouts on his own after the Scout Leader Bee walked out without explanation last term. If they can't find an Assistant Scout Leader, the section will have to close down.Will Aziraphale cope with inner-city Scouting? And will Crowley realise that he's falling for his Assistant Scout Leader?(Rated M for potential smut, but will mostly contain a bit of angst, but mostly fluff)





	1. I Promise That I Will Do My Best...

**Author's Note:**

> So... It's been a couple of years since I've written anything, let alone fan fic. I watched Good Omens for the first time last month, then devoured the book in a matter of a few days! I certainly relate to Aziraphale in most fanfics, hence why I'll mostly write from his POV, though I may write a one-shot from Crowley's. I've been an Assistant Scout Leader for nearly two years now, and the idea that Azi has come from a group that has kids that can afford private school and the latest kit to find himself in a group in a deprived area run by Crowley to be a rather interesting dynamic!
> 
> Obviously, everything Good Omens belongs to Sir Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman, but everything else has come from my pretty little head!

Aziraphale stood in front of the weather-beaten scout hut. 

It had been a bit of an effort to find, especially without a smartphone with Google Maps on it. He'd ended up asking a Big Issue seller at the tube station for the directions, turned out he had been a former Scout at the troop himself. 

"Once a scout, always a scout, dear boy," Aziraphale had said, purchasing a copy, "and thanks for the directions!" 

As he had hurried along, Aziraphale had quickly read through the printed-out email from Gabriel, the district commissioner of the area that his new group resided in. The 13th Soho Scout Group wasn't in the best of situations, most of the young people in the group came from deprived areas, and relied heavily on the goodwill of the community for funding. Leaders never really stuck around for very long either, apparently the Group Scout Leader was an abrasive and difficult man, and the young people unruly and struggling with behavioural difficulties. The Assistant Scout Leader position that he was filling was to replace a leader who had apparently 'snapped', and walked away one night and never came back. Aziraphale gulped. 

He'd only just finished his Wood Badge training with a troop in the city of Bath, where he had spent four years studying for his Creative Writing and English Literature undergraduate and masters degrees. The troop's Scouts were enthusiastic, and gave everything a go at least once. They camped, sailed, rock-climbed and even hiked in the Lake District. A couple of the Scouts had shed a few tears when it was announced that he would be moving to London in order to study for his Phd, and take over the family bookshop in Soho. 

Before he'd left, he'd put a post on a Facebook page for Scout leaders, asking if any troops in the Soho area needed a leader, as he was going to want to find a group to keep volunteering with once he moved back to London. Gabriel had immediately messaged him on the private chat and told him about 13th Soho. He warned about the challenge, but Aziraphale felt like he was ready for something rather different. All he knew was that he was to arrive at the hut at 6:30pm, to meet the scout leader he would be working with. 

Which lead him to the front door of a scout hut that was in desperate need of repair. He looked at his watch, 6:25pm. He was a bit early, and the lights weren't on. He shuffled from one foot to the other nervously. 

He could hear footsteps ahead, crunching into the gravel path. 

Aziraphale looked up. His breath was knocked out of his chest.

If this was Anthony J. Crowley, he was the most handsome man he had ever seen in his life. 

He was slim, wearing black skinny jeans and a Queen t-shirt, beige uniform shirt slung over one shoulder, black and red necker, tied with a friendship knot peeking out of a jean pocket. Sunglasses were balanced on his nose, even though the sun had already set. His red hair was pulled back into a low ponytail. Aziraphale suddenly felt rather odd in his chino shorts, hiking boots, socks and impeccably pressed shirt and white and blue necker set together with a standard issue leather woggle. 

"You must be Aziraphale," the man said, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, that's me," Aziraphale replied, sticking out his left hand for him to shake, "I'll assume you're Anthony?"

"Prefer Crowley, though the kids call me 'Skip'," Crowley replied, shaking Aziraphael's hand. His hand was thin, with long fingers, slightly cooler to the touch, yet the grip was firm. Crowley then brought out a key from his pocket, and stepped up to the front door in order to unlock it. 

Damn, those skinny jeans didn't leave all that much to the imagination.

Aziraphale wasn't sure if he was fixating because he was nervous about the night's future events, or if he was suffering from a case of infatuation at first sight. He gulped, and took a deep breath.

"Well, what you waiting for?" Crowley said, "Come on, it's not as bad as it looks!"

***  
It was pretty bad.

The posters on the wall were out of date and faded. There was a musty smell of canvas that had't quite dried out properly. At least the hall space was of a decent size to hold at least twenty Scouts in one go. There was a door on the back wall, which had a sign saying "DO NOT ENTER UNLESS INVITED BY LEADERS", it had a drawing of what looked like a penis, scrawled on with a black felt-tip pen. 

"That wasn't there last week," Crowley mused, with a smile. He took the sign down, and opened the door, ushering Aziraphale inside. 

The office room was small, and bitterly cold. The computer on the desk looked ancient, and there were badges and papers scattered everywhere. Crowley sat at the desk, draping the shirt over the chair, and turned on the computer. 

"Remind me where your last group was?"

"Bath, though I was a scout myself, in Kensington, before I went to uni," Aziraphale said, quite proudly, "I've been in Scouting for most of my life, my mother was a Cub leader, father was the GSL, so it's kind of in the blood really."

"So, what made you decide to come here, instead of Kensington?" Crowley asked, "I'd have thought they'd welcome you back with open arms, being an old boy and all that..."

Aziraphale's breath hitched. 

"Let's just say that my family don't exactly approve of some of my other life choices."

Crowley spun his chair around, and looked Aziraphale dead in the eye, not that it was obvious as he hadn't taken his sunglasses off. 

"That sucks. But their loss is our gain," he said, "Besides, I don't think any of the leaders other than Shadwell are straight anyway," he added, raising an eyebrow.

The hall started to fill with loud chatter and clattering about.

"Ah, the terrifying things that go bump in the night are arriving. Ready to start the rest of your life?"

"I'll do my very best, dear boy."


	2. A Scout Has Courage in All Difficulties...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Scouts arrive, and Aziraphale wonders if he's bitten off more than he can chew...
> 
> TW: Homophobic bullying, violence, PTSD flashback. Panic Attack - a pretty valid, brief one, but a nasty one nonetheless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before I forget:
> 
> Flag Break - When the union flag is 'broken' at the start of the night. It's our way of showing respect for Queen and Country (when we are invested, we promise to serve Queen and Country, and this is just one way of showing this in day-to-day Scouting)  
Flag Down - When the flag is lowered at the end of the night to signal the end of the evening, before everyone goes home/to the pub for the week.
> 
> "Fall In" - Get into a horseshoe formation around the flag/into a line depending on the situation  
"Tallest on the Right, Shortest on the Left" - Get into a line, in height order, tallest first, shortest last.  
"Number from the right in ones/twos/threes/etc" - Call out a number in that order (leaders use this to split Scouts into groups for games where it's best they are not in their patrols. I also used this in the troop I was in that was too small for patrols in order to split them up for activities)  
"Alert" - Stand at attention  
"Stand at Ease" - Feet slightly apart, hands behind back, slightly more relaxed, but still alert, best for when instructions need to be given  
"Stand Easy" - most informal, just stand like you would normally, rarely used command.   
"Troop to the Right, Troop Dismissed" - turn to the right, then you can go home, done at he end of the night when flag has been brought down.

"Alright, Troop, Fall In!"

It took about ten minutes for all twenty Scouts to reluctantly fall into a horseshoe shape around the union flag. Aziraphale nervously stood next to Crowley, as he got them all to stand to alert. 

"Right, who's Duty this week?" Crowley asked the whispering and muttering Scouts, slouched and pretty much ignoring him. 

A smaller boy with classes and tidy brown hair suddenly piped up, "Actually, Skip, I believe it's Wolves turn to be Duty this week."

Crowley smiled. "Ah, so it is. Pepper, would you do the honours? Troop, I said, ALERT!"

The Scouts suddenly stood to alert, very quietly. Aziraphale was genuinely impressed at the way Crowley was able to get their attention, and hold it. It was something he had always struggled with, his voice being soft and gentle, meaning that he wasn't always able to use his authority in the way he probably could do. 

Pepper came out of the formation, and marched up to the flag, pulling the rope so that it came loose, stood back, and saluted lazily. Everyone else saluted, the leaders properly, the Scouts not so much. Pepper rejoined the rest of her patrol, and Crowley stood them at ease. 

"Right, it's a Games Night this week. Also," he said, gesturing to Aziraphale, "This is Aziraphale, he's going to be the new Assistant Leader here, provided you don't scare him off like the little tykes you all are. Play nice, please."

"Uh, it's very nice to meet you all," Aziraphale said, as the Scouts stared and sniggered, "I am looking forward to working with you all, and helping you along with your Scouting journey."

The Scouts started to jeer at him a little bit. Was he being too formal? Too weird? He felt himself cringing inside, and wanting to run out of the hut and never come back. He swallowed. No, he couldn't do that. These kids needed him to buck up, even if they didn't quite realise it themselves as of yet. 

"Enough of that, you miserable lot," Crowley said, "Fall out, then I want you to fall in, tallest on the right, shortest on the left!"

****

It wasn't long before a raucous match of The Beanbag Game was in full swing. The leaders stood to the sidelines as small beanbags were thrown at terrifying speeds at various Scouts on either sides of the room. Scouts that had been gotten 'out' were stood on benches at the ends of the hut, shouting and squealing to have the beanbags thrown to them to catch so that they could come back into the game. 

It was to the point where even Aziraphale and Crowley were joining in, on opposite sides, Crowley ducking in and out, weaving among the Scouts, managing to deftly get at least five opposing team members out and onto the benches, even rescuing one or two of his own team when he felt like it. Aziraphale had gotten out quite quickly after a rather hard smack right on his left leg had caused him to have to limp over to the other bench, with a mixture of jeering and huzzahs trailing in his wake. Everyone was having a great time, and Aziraphale was loosening up, laughing and cheering on his team, waving his arm up enthusiastically to be let back into the game, Crowley smiting the beanbags thrown Aziraphale's was with a wicked smirk. 

"OW! ADAM, THAT HURT!"

Crowley stopped what he was doing in an instant, and blew his whistle. Aziraphale looked and saw one of the Scouts, with wild, bushy hair laughing evily, beanbag in his hand, aiming it at one of the other Scouts, small, with long greasy black hair and pale skin looking up at him, almost begging him to leave him be. 

Aziraphale gulped. He'd been in a similar situation when he was their age. Seeing the replay in front of him seemed to send him right back...

***

It had been a sunny afternoon in October. Aziraphale had finished Young Leader Training for the week, and was walking back home to the bookshop where his uncle was waiting. The leaves were falling from the trees onto the white stone pavements, fluttering down to the ground like butterflies. Aziraphale liked autumn. Autumn meant hot cocoa held in a takeaway cup with gloved hands, reading in front of a roaring wood fire whilst wrapped up in a blanket, the world catching fire whilst it got ready for the winter, a day where people were not people, but whatever they wanted to be. 

"Oh, look, there's the pansy-boy."

He looked up, and saw the gang of boys he went to school with. His stomach dropped. 

"Doesn't he look like a little poofter? What are you, a Girl Guide? Gonna sell us some cookies?" one of the taller boys sneered, squaring up to Aziraphale. He pulled Aziraphale closer to him by his necker, causing Aziraphale to choke as his breath became constricted. The boy laughed as Aziraphale tried to get away.

"Thought you wanted a bit of action, or are you a frigid little faggot?" the boy whispered. He then shoved Aziraphale onto the ground with a thud.

"Please, leave me alone, I haven't ever done anything to you... I'll do anything, just please, don't hurt me, please..."

All he remembers is a kick to the face, and the world going black...

****

"ADAM YOUNG, NOT AT WARLOCK'S HEAD!" Crowley roared over the racket, "IT'S BELOW THE WAIST AS YOU WELL KNOW!"

Adam just laughed, and aimed another beanbag right at Warlock's head, hitting it extremely hard. Warlock cried out very loudly, tears in his eyes, rubbing his forehead where a rather red, furious mark was now developing. The game stopped, as the others stood still, staring at Crowley, then at Warlock, who had broken down into loud, noisy sobs. Crowley swore under his breath, and turned to Aziraphale. "Could you grab the first aid kit? It's in the office next to the computer. The Accident Book is in there too. I'm going to have to call their parents too, neither can stay tonight. Warlock might even have to go to hospital."

Aziraphale nodded. The smack of the beanbag had been deafening. 

He quickly walked into the office, shutting the door behind him. 

****

The world was spinning, he could barely breathe. In, out, in out, in out. He couldn't do this, not now. There was a kid who was potentially really badly hurt. There was another that was grinning like the Antichrist himself, laughing that someone was so hurt by his own doing. No wonder Crowley had been struggling for so long by himself. How could he keep behaviour in check alone? Why should he be panicking, feeling so awful, when he'd only just dipped his toe into the pond? Why on earth was he still doing this? He gasped for air, realising that he'd slid down the back of the door, so that he was sat with his feet solid on the ground, knees brought up to his chest. He couldn't do this, not now. Maybe later. Buck up, he thought to himself, a scout has courage in all difficulties. 

He got up, and found the first aid kit and accident book. He wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve. His eyes felt puffy, he must have had quite the episode. He hadn't had one of those in a while.

****

They had to send the Scouts home earlier than planned, as they didn't have enough people to continue the night as well as sort out the incident. Warlock's parents rushed in as soon as Crowley called them to explain what had happened, especially as Warlock had fainted, and needed to be seen by a doctor as soon as possible. Adam's parents also flew straight in, apologising to both Warlock's parents and the leaders. It was decided that Adam would be suspended until he could prove that he could behave in a way suitable for Scouting, which was something Crowley did not take lightly. He never wanted a child to fall through the cracks. 

Soon, the hut was once again empty, except for Crowley and Aziraphale.

"It's not always like this," Crowley said, unbuttoning his shirt with a sigh, "You just got to see the worst of it tonight. Adam has been acting up for quite a while now, but he's never stepped over the line quite like this..."

"I know how much you care for these kids, Crowley. You've worked so hard, for no thanks, to keep this troop up and running. I'm glad that I can come in and help you, if you'll let me." Aziraphale said.

"Pub?" Crowley asked.

"Eh?"

"Didn't you go for the obligatory post-Scouts pint in Bath?"

"Not really, but I'm not against the idea of starting to."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Games Nights are usually really fun, The Beanbag Game being one of my favourite games to run. Think Dodgeball, but with many small bags filled with dried rice or beans being lobbed about instead. I've gained bruises from playing with over-zealous Scouts that I've had to explain to my boyfriend a few days later! I apologise for all the whumps I've dealt to Azi in this chapter, I promise it only gets better for him from this point on.

**Author's Note:**

> Also some translations from Scoutish into English XD  
SL - Scout Leader  
ASL - Assistant Scout Leader  
Occassional Helper - an Adult Volunteer that isn't in uniform, but helps leaders to run the nights and camps. Some do it every week, others do so when they can. All are brilliant and helpful, they just don't wanna wear the shirt/do more than the manditory training modules!  
GSL - Group Scout Leader  
DC - District Commissioner  
Wood Badge - These are little wood beads on a twine that go around a Leader's neck on top of their necker (scarf). It shows that the Leader has completed the training required to be a fully-fledged leader. 
> 
> Also, in Scouting, we shake with the left hand, not the right. This is because when the Founder of Scouting was in the Boor Wars, he noticed that Zulu warriors would hold their spears in their right hand, their shield in their left. When two opposing warriors met in peace, to show trust, they would put their shields down, and shake with the left hand, basically "I trust you to not stab me in the gut and kill me whilst I'm trying to be friendly". So he decided that's how Scouts would greet each other (making a half-salute with the right, shaking with the left. Aziraphale and Crowley don't salute, but still shake with the left hand just because Scouting!).


End file.
